Strip Away the Nightmare
by gothraven89
Summary: Clark is back to life and back to being the intrepid reporter and Superman. However, his nights are filled with terrifying visions of the man who nearly ended him, the what ifs of what his fate would have been had Lois not gotten there in time. He thinks he's ok around Batman but Batman is not considered the World's greatest detective for nothing. SLASH: Clark/Bruce.


Disclaimer: I don't own any rights to the Batman or Superman characters or comic book series. It is all property of DC and whoever else has legal authority. I am not making any kind of profit from this writing; it is all for fun and freedom of expression.

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Warning: Strong Sexual Content. Apologies in advance if anyone seems OOC

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Strip Away the Nightmare

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 _" You were never a god."_

 _A heavy, metal boot slowly pressing into his throat, choking the air from him, his every cell on fire beneath the poisonous green glow of the Kryptonite spear. Paralyzed, helpless... Scared. The dark figure looming, growling, savoring the moment before the kill._

 _" You were never even a man." Batman growled, his face held in grim satisfaction as he drew back the spear and then in a deadly, final arch brought it crashing down._

 _This time there was no Lois to save him, to reason with Batman. All Clark could do was watch as the glowing tip of the spear made its way down and then buried itself into his chest in a brilliant spray of crimson._

 _Clark guttural, blood-filled scream mingled with the distorted, deep chuckling of his murderer as his chest exploded in agony._

 _" GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH"_

With a harsh gasp, clear blue eyes shot wide open as Clark sat up ramrod straight. Disoriented, Clark's eyes darted around the room and quickly adjusted to the darkness. As he calmed down, Clark let out a shaky breath and gains his whits about him. He was currently sitting in his bed with the sheets tangled around him. He was in his bedroom, inside his apartment in Metropolis.

What he had just seen was the nightmare that plagued him even now, just about a year after his return to the land of the living. The nightmare scenario of what would have been his fate had he not been able to ask Bruce to save his mother, and Lois not been able to get there in time to intervene. With a small groan, Clark disentangled himself from the cheers and swung his legs around and over the side of the bed. He sat nearly hunched in half, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. His heart was still pounding in his ears, while his whole body felt weak and clammy. The cool air of the room against his bare torso only added to the feeling. With both feet firmly on the hardwood floor, Clark then let out a sigh and pushed himself up from the bed.

He shuffled out of his bedroom clad only in his well worn gray sleeping pants and made his way to the kitchen. He made his way over to the refrigerator and pulled it open to reveal its rather poorly stocked contents. While most people thought that with him being Superman, he would have to take in a massive amount of food to maintain his incredibly powerful physique, it was the exact opposite. He could go on for weeks without a single bite of food or drop of water, the rays of the sun all he needed to sustain him.

He looked past the half-full boxes of Chinese takeout and beer and reached for the carton of milk. Without bothering to pour himself a glass, Clark sipped directly from the carton as he made his way into the living room and all but plopped down onto the sofa. He picked up the remote and turned on the TV and just started flipping through the channels, trying not to think of the nightmare he had just suffered, the theme of which had been recurring every since he returned to life and clawed his way out of his own grave four months ago. The nightmares did not happen every single day, but with enough frequency to make Clark quiver in his most private moment. The figure central to the bad dreams was always the same.

Batman in his shredded metal suit with the Kryptonite spear in his hand and hate burning bright in his dark brown eyes.

As Clark found some mindless comedy to watch, he leaned forward to set the carton of milk down on the coffee table in front of him, Clark hissed as he felt a sharp, lancing pain in the middle of his chest. He immediately looked down and gently touched his fingertips to the crescent shaped scar that now adorned the center of his chest, rubbing at it gingerly in an attempt to alleviate the pain. Now that the crescent shaped scar was flaring with phantom pain, Clark winced as the scars mate on his back began hurting as well. With a small sigh of annoyance, Clark sat back and closed his eyes. He breathed deep and did his best to will the pain away and relax.

This was now a regular occurrence for Clark, coming home to his empty apartment that now seemed almost yawning in its emptiness with Lois gone, going through his usual routine of just watching TV and eating something from outside rather than cooking like he used to love, darting out if there was an emergency he could not ignore, and then collapsing in bed only to wake up a few hours later in a cold sweat after having yet another nightmare about Batman. Then his chest would start hurting and he would remember the abomination that had actually killed him by driving its jagged bone into his chest.

With a shaky breath, Clark opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling, watching the shadows dancing across it.

Clark felt the frustration boil up inside him. He was here, he was alive, he should be feeling like he had a new lease on life. Sure, after he came back, Clark and Lois decided to stay friends and she had moved out of the apartment while he'd been buried and his body was slowly knitting itself back together, but besides that there hadn't been many hurdles for Clark to jump over to reclaim his life, well both aspects of said life.

Becoming Superman again had been relatively easy, he was the man from another world so it was within reason for him to just pop up out of his grave and go back to saving people without any sort of true explanation.

Becoming Clark Kent again, not that had proved to be somewhat difficult. He had been dead and buried, his colleagues had all attended his funeral rather than go to Superman's. How was an ordinary man from Smallville suppose to rise up from the grave.

It was here that Clark felt a small smile turn up the corners of his lips as he remembered just who it was that had helped him regain his civilian alter-ego.

Bruce Wayne. Billionaire, playboy,alter-ego to the terrifying vigilante that had nearly ended him.

Bruce had used his wealth and influence to come up with a convincing enough story, that during the Doomsday Incident as it was called, Clark had been mugged by a criminal who was a dead wringer for him and that he had been hit on the head and taken to a hospital in Gotham as a John Doe. While there he had lapsed into a coma while his mugger had been killed in the destruction. Since the mugger had Clark's ID and wallet, everyone simply assumed he was Clark and that the wrong man had been buried, while Clark himself had awoken from his coma a full year later, disoriented and with some memory loss, but ultimately ok.

It had worked, and Clark was slowly coming back to work at the Daily Planet, with Perry White still there to chew him out, but gently. Clark could tell that the man had actually been glad to have him back, as were many of his colleagues.

Clark felt his heart twist inside his chest.

Bruce Wayne, Batman, Batman, Bruce Wayne. One in the same and yet so completely different at times. Bruce was the suave billionaire who would get flirty with anything that moved, while Batman was the specter that haunted the criminal world of Gotham and could dole out such inhuman brutality, that he had nearly ended Superman himself.

It was this push and pull that also served to rob Clark of his peace of mind. On the one hand Bruce had been so kind to him, helping him get his life back, but during there first meeting he had been so arrogant and standoffish that it repulsed something deep in Clark. Then there was Batman, whom he had considered a brute and an enemy, and who had in fact brutalized him, who had also saved his mother and done his best to look out for both her and Lois while Clark had been buried in the cold ground. He had heard from Martha that Bruce had often visited her in Smallville, both as himself and as Batman, and even gone so far as to fix the tractor when its engine had broken down.

The man was so many good things despite his dark, other persona, so why, why did Clark still have nightmares about what happened that night, about Batman driving the Kryptonite spear into his chest and finishing him?

Clark started as he felt something warm and wet trickle out the corner of his eye. Sitting up and wincing only a little bit at the pain the movement caused his still somewhat tender scars, Clark reached up and wiped away the trail of salt that clung to his face and let out a shaky breath.

He was hurting still, both physically and mentally. A part of him just wanted to stay here in his apartment and not give a damn anymore about anything, not the article he needed to finish for Perry, or anyone screaming for help around the world. A part of him just wanted to turn away from the world that had ridiculed him and vilified him only to mourn him and sing his praises after he had made the ultimate sacrifice. Now, whenever he saved people, there was always this hint of guilt and shame he could feel whenever he caught anyone's gaze, and he hated it, he absolutely hated it.

But that was just a part of Clark, a small part. With a sigh, Clark turned off the TV and reached out to pick up the carton of milk and then got up. He replaced the carton in the fridge before shuffling back to the bedroom to try and get some sleep. When the light of the sun came up in a few hours, he would get up, go through his morning routine and then head to work and finish the article for Perry and fly off if there was an epic disaster that needed his attention. He'd still do everything he had to as Clark and as Superman.

Clark got under the covers of his bed and soon fell into a restless sleep, thankfully free of the frightening nightmare that had initially robbed him of slumber.

While Clark went to sleep, outside on a building right across from Clark's apartment building, a lone figure stood up to full, imposing height. With his black clap billowing around him like wings, Batman kept his dark eyes keenly focused on the windows of Clark's apartment.

He was spying on the newly returned Kryptonian, plain and simple. He didn't partake in this activity often, but his suspicions had been raised when he had noticed the subtle way Superman had flinched when he had gotten too close to the younger man about a week earlier, when together they had thwarted Penguin and Riddler's joint effort to literally sink Gotham City. They had worked well together, Superman making quick work of the many bombs Riddler had planted beneath the city while Batman had dispatched the numerous henchmen before pummeling both Riddler and Penguin before gift wrapping them for Gordon and the GCPD.

It was while they and been watching the police activity from high up and Batman had noticed. Now on this night, Bruce had watched through some high-powered, infrared night goggles, as Clark had wrenched himself out of a dead sleep and then walked around his apartment restlessly.

Bruce frowned grimly beneath his already frowning cowl. His suspicions had been raised, but now he wanted confirmation. Reaching for a button on his utility belt, Batman pulled out his grappling hook and shot it straight up into the air where the extra long ling and hook disappeared into the dark clouds and then hit something with a soft clank. Then Bruce was sailing up into the air and into the clouds where the Batwing had been hovering in wait, huddle by the night clouds.

After he deftly climbed into the highly advanced aircraft, Bruce flew away back towards the outskirts of Gotham where home was, a plan for what to do next forming in his mind.

 _A week later..._

Clark did his best to ignore the way his stomach was twisting itself into knots as he flew across the bay towards Gotham. Where Metropolis was silver modernity and bright lights, Gotham was black, gothic art deco and Gargoyles, holding an old, dangerous quality to it. Clark felt his stomach twist itself further into knots as he flew into Gotham and made his way towards the seedy warehouse district Bruce had asked to meet at tonight.

As he neared the warehouse strewn area, his sharp ears sifted through the din of noise of the city and focused on the calm, steady beating of one particular heart. Steeling his nerve, Clark stealthy touched down on the roof of an abandoned building overlooking the many warehouses.

No sooner had he landed, the steady heartbeat was behind him.

" Batman." Clark said without turning, proud that he had kept his voice steady.

" Superman." Came the low, deep growl as Batman stepped out of the shadows and stepped around Clark to stand beside him.

Clark forced himself to face Batman. There he stood, taller than him by only a few inches and yet seeming to almost tower over everything in his suit. His mouth was held in a stern, emotionless line and his cape billowed in the light, crisp wind that had picked up. His dark eyes behind the cowl seemed to almost see right through Clark, and that is saying something when the latter is the one who actually had x-ray vision.

Superman and Batman regarded each other for a moment longer, Superman doing his best not to squirm under Batman's intense gaze as he spoke.

" Is it going down tonight?" He asked in an effort to change the subject and get down to business.

" Yes, Bane is moving forward with his plan to contaminate the city's water supply with a powerful nerve-toxin." Batman growled as he stepped away and headed towards the edge of the roof.

Clark did his best to quash down the feeling of relief that washed over him when Batman turned and walked away and instead focused on the task at hand as he followed Batman to the edge of the window. He listened carefully as Batman explained how Bane had been stockpiling his toxin in a good chunk of the warehouses before them and tonight he was going to move the bulk of the stuff to the water treatment plants throughout the city. But even as he listened, Clark had to fight with the part of him that wanted to instinctively shy away from the man who had beaten the tar out of him like no one had, not even Zod.

Still, Clark did his best to stay focused because this was a major threat that needed to be neutralized, and Batman trusted him enough to call him in.

A few minutes later Batman was launching his grappling hook and swinging off the roof, and Superman was diving into the air.

 _A couple of hours later..._

Clark allowed himself a small, satisfied smile as he watched an unconscious Bane get stuffed into a SWAT truck headed straight for Arkham Asylum, looking just a little on the skinny side. During the melee that had happened when Batman and Superman confronted Bane and his henchmen, the hopped up on steroids Luchador from Hell had made a B-line right for the Man of Steel.

Bane had given it his best shot, pummeling Clark with his fists, but all his efforts ended up just casually bouncing off of Clark without any damage. Of course, when that didn't work, Bane increased the dosage of venom and bulked up some more. He and Clark traded harsh blows and destroyed a whole bunch of property while Batman swiftly incapacitated Bane's henchmen in multiple combat. It was when Clark hoisted Bane into the air by his collar that Batman let one of his batarangs fly, the blade whirling through the air and neatly slicing through the tube at the back of Bane's head that connected him to his constant supply of Venom.

Clark had watched in rapt fascination as the hulking mass of a man he had been fighting all night suddenly became this pathetically pale, rail-thin dude who looked like a strong wind could knock him back several hundred feet. When Bane in his weakened state still tried to fight him, Clark causally set him back down on the floor and then simply raised his hand and flicked his finger. Bane ended up flying straight across the warehouse and into a pile of heavy metal pipes, an unconscious heap.

Clark had allowed himself a smirk at his handy work until he felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. He turned and saw that Batman was watching him with a subtle hint of curiosity in his dark eyes. Clark instantly felt his insides freeze, and his mind flashed to when Batman was illuminated in poisonous green light and staring down at him, going in for the kill. But just as quickly as the flashback happened, Clark shook it off and forced himself to smile and nod at Batman. Batman for his part simply blinked and then went back to tying up the unconscious henchmen he had taken care of.

Now, Superman and Batman were standing at the edge of the same roof they had first leapt off of, watching the culmination of their handiwork as Gordon and his officers took the bad guys into custody.

" Thanks for the assist back there, your aim is impeccable." Superman said lightly, all the while feeling his uneasiness rear its ugly head.

" You were handling yourself pretty well, just surprised you didn't just roast him with you laser eyes." Batman replied, his voice that signature modified growl.

" Didn't want to risk setting anything on fire." Clark said, all the while keeping his eyes firmly on the chaotic scene below, while also being hyper-aware of Batman.

Batman let out a small grunt of acknowledgement.

Silence descended upon them, charged and uncertain. Then Clark felt the air shift and then suddenly he was yanked to the side by his wrist. Batman was suddenly right there in his face, looking at him with hard eyes and seeming to grow even more imposing with the darkness and his cape billowing around him. Before he could stop himself, Clark let out a sharp gasp and reeled back until his back collided with the brick wall of the stairwell roof door structure. Batman wordlessly advanced on him until there were mere inches separating him from Clark, staring at him, scrutinizing. Clark swallowed, his throat and mouth suddenly dry as he gazed at Batman with wide eyes. His hands were pressed flat against the brick behind him in an effort to hide the light tremor that was radiating through him.

There was a instance of disorientation and then Clark felt everything in him turn cold in stark realization.

For these months that he had been back to life, he was terrified of Batman and now, Batman had seen that terror on full, incontrovertible display.

" Clark-" Bruce began to say when Clark rapidly shook his head.

" N-No, it's nothing. I'm sorry!" He said quickly before he pushed himself away from the brick wall and sidestepped Batman at super speed before taking to the air with a light boom, feeling the cool night air against his flushed face and with his heart pounding in his ears.

Back on the roof where he stood transfixed and watching as Clark became a rapidly diminishing spec headed back across the bay to Metropolis, Bruce felt his own heart pounding in his ears, his suspicion now turning into cold, solid certainty in the pit of his stomach like an iceberg.

He had nearly destroyed the indestructible, made him writhe in agony and bleed. He had beaten Clark with savage brutality and taken grim satisfaction in making a veritable god on Earth come to heel. He had brutalized Clark, wanted him to know what it felt like to be utterly defenseless. He had terrorized the Man of Steel.

Now the Man of Steel was truly terrified of him.

" Damn." Bruce whispered, wanting the ground to just swallow him up right then and there.

Clenching his jaw tightly, Bruce finally tore his gaze away from the night skies above and stalked away until the shadows swallowed him up once more in a swirl of billowing black cape.

Back in Metropolis, Clark sat at the foot of his bed in his dark apartment, still dressed in his Kryptonian suit. He stared vacantly at the wall in front of him and took in deep breaths in an effort to calm himself. His entire body shuddered as he caved in on himself. Clark screwed his eyes tightly shut against the burning that was incinerating his eyeballs, gritting his teeth in an effort to hide the trembling in his jaw even though he was alone. Clark buried his hands into his hair and let out a half-sob half-groan. In the silence, Clark finally couldn't stop a few drops of salt from escaping past the seem of his eyelids.

He didn't want to feel this way, he didn't. Bruce and Batman were one in the same, they were the same man and that man was actually a good person who saved his mother for God's sake. He hated this, he hated it so much. He finally had someone who understood life as a hero, the burden of it all but he was too afraid of him to let the other man get close. He had freaked out tonight in front of him and now Bruce saw everything Clark had been so desperate to hide.

In the solitude of his apartment he allowed the full, distressing terror he had been holding at bay finally wash over him completely.

He would shove it back down in the morning and get back to functioning... barely.

 _Another week later..._

It was a rainy, dismal night over Metropolis, like the Heavens had opened up and said to the land " Here, had a nice long drink on me" before unleashing the great deluge that poured over everything and everyone.

It was late, and Clark felt like he was walking though quicksand as he trudged into his apartment building. While it was true that he didn't get physically weary easily, mentally he was just done right now. The weather was miserable, and Perry had chewed him out spectacularly for something he wasn't even supposed to cover. Lois had gotten him a coffee and gave him some much appreciated words of encouragement before she was off to cover a story in Malaysia for the next week, just missing the rainstorm that suddenly engulfed Metropolis.

By the time Clark had gotten out of the subway and reached home, he was thoroughly drenched from head to toe. It wasn't like he could catch his death, but he had forgotten his umbrella and he couldn't just speed through because despite the rain there were a fair amount of people out and about.

Now he was trudging up the stairs to his fifth floor apartment because the elevator still wasn't working. Clark was at the second floor when he finally had enough. Using his hearing and x-ray vision to ensure that there was no one else in the stairwell, Clark levitated off the steps and then shot up to the fifth floor in one fell swoop. With a small huff Clark pulled open the stairwell door and stepped through. He then shuffled his way down the hall and reached the door to his apartment. On autopilot he fished out his keys and let himself in and then went through the motions of undressing and then heading for the shower to cleanse himself of the day. Once done he decided to make himself a simple sandwich. He ate mechanically and watched the news as he did so, only slightly gladdened when the report about the mudslide he had literally frozen with his breath in Honduras earlier in the day came on. It had been a bit of a chore but once he had frozen the destructive mud solid he had dismantled it all in large chunks piece by piece.

Despite the epic save, the week itself had been a relative uneventful one for Clark. He had been beside himself with worry for when he would shave to face Batman next, but that meeting never happened. There was no call, no suddenly materializing out of the shadows, nothing. Bruce Wayne himself had been in the news for a new, innovative piece of tech that was due to come out in a few months but other than that, not a peep.

It made Clark equal parts relieved and nervous.

Clark cleaned and put the dishes away and then turned off the lights before heading to the bathroom once more to take care of his nightly routine before finally heading to bed, hoping that tonight would deb one of the increasingly rare nights where he didn't wake up from another nightmare involving a certain Dark Knight of Gotham and the violent incident that still hung between them.

It was an hour later when Clark was finally drifting off into a restless sleep that his clear blue eyes suddenly shot wide open, all semblance of sleep forgotten as an unexpected noise caught his sensitive hearing.

A slow and steady heartbeat that was not his own, familiar and _currently in his bedroom_.

Doing his level best to remain calm, Clark slowly pulled back the covers and sat up in his bed. When he was fully upright, Clark's eyes slowly grew wide because there standing at the foot of his bed, looking as tall and imposing as the last time he had seen him, was Batman.

" Hello Clark." Bruce said with his signature grown.

Clark blinked owlishly at him for a moment and then seemed to unfreeze as he spoke.

" H-Hey Bruce." He said quietly, all the while feeling totally exposed under those dark eyes despite being fully clothed in pajama bottoms and a baggy t-shirt.

Now normally, Clark would have demanded to know just how Bruce even got in here, but at the moment all Clark could do was sit their and gawk at the vigilante.

" You're afraid of me." Bruce declared without any further preamble.

Clark inhaled sharply and then looked away, but he tellingly did not voice an denials. When he looked back in Bruce's direction, Clark let out a small yelp of surprise as Bruce was no longer standing at the foot of his bed, but right there by his side, looming over him. He shrank back until he was pressed against he headboard of the bed, eying Bruce apprehensively.

" I think it's time you and I talked." Bruce then said, and was Clark imagining it or did Bruce actually look... sad beneath the cowl?

" A-About what Bruce? I am fine." Clark said steadily, all the while feeling his insides almost vibrate with apprehension and anticipation.

" Of course you are." Bruce growled out before a humorless smirk quirked up the corner of his lips as he continued.

" It's why you shot into the sky and flew away when I crowded you, why you get uncomfortable if I get too close, and why you've been having nightmares that wake you from a dead sleep."

Clark felt a jolt go through him at Bruce's words.

" How the Hell do you know all this Bruce?" He asked slowly.

" I've been spying on you some nights, and I just notice things." Bruce said simply.

Clark slowly rose from his bed and stood to face Bruce, crossing his arms and glowering lightly as he spoke.

" Where the Hell do you get off spying on me Bruce" He asked with a hard voice.

Bruce simply shrugged before he spoke.

" Believe me or don't believe me, but I've only been looking in on you for the last few weeks, left you alone for months until I started noticing your behavior around me." Bruce explained before his own face hardened beneath the cowl.

The next thing Clark knew, Bruce was stepping towards him, almost stalking like some apex predator. Feeling everything in him turn cold, Clark started to back away before he could stop himself, gasping when his bedroom wall was suddenly against his back.

Just like the week before, mere inches separated Clark and Bruce.

" D-Don't." Clark whispered, clenching his fists in an effort to hide his trembling.

" I am not going to hurt you Clark." Bruce said quietly.

Hearing Bruce's words, Clark let out a humorless, almost hysterical chuckle as he felt his eyes start to burn. With a ragged groan Clark forced himself to look straight into Bruce's dark eyes as he spoke.

" You already hurt me asshole, you poisoned me, you beat me to your heart's content, and then you pressed your foot down on my throat and almost drove a spear right through me. If you aren't here to hurt me than why are you here, to bake me cookies?" Clark gritted out.

The rational part of Clark's brain knew that Bruce wasn't here to hurt him again, they were erstwhile allies now, they've worked together on several occasions. However, it was the irrational part of Clark's mind that took over at the moment.

" I came here to try and fix things between us Clark." Bruce said honestly.

Clark felt his walls go up at that and shook his head vehemently.

" You don't need to fix anything Bruce, I am fine. I just need time to get over it, that's all."

" You're not fine, you are the farthest thing from fine." Bruce barked before he closed the sparse distance between them, making Clark flinch before he could stop himself.

" This is exactly what I mean. You flinch away from me if I get too close. We've been working together these last few months and by some grace things haven't gone sideways, but one flinch is all it takes for whoever you are fighting to get the upper hand. And it isn't just that, this is weighing on you. You're nightmares are about me aren't they, about what I did, and what I could have done had Lois not gotten there in time?" Bruce pressed with his signature growl.

Clark averted his gaze, his silence telling enough. Then Clark clenched his jaw and spoke without looking up.

" You have all the answers don't you Bruce." He spat.

Bruce for his part just shook his head and felt a wave of self-loathing and sadness wash over him at the state of the younger man before him. With a sigh, he spoke.

" No, I don't have all the answers, I barely have any. I just took a guess as to what your nightmares are about because me going through with killing you are what my own nightmares are about." He said quietly.

Clark looked up sharply and gawked at Bruce, thinking he hadn't heard correctly.

Bruce had nightmares too, about what happened between then and what almost happened? Clark felt something inside him give painful lurch at the very thought that the person who caused him so much pain, was the subject of his recurring nightmares, could also be the best person to understand, the person who could feel the exact same way. Just as a hopeful yearning began to bubble in the pit of Clark's stomach, the Kryptonian almost violently stamped it down as he shook his head.

" Like I said, I'll get over it so don't concern yourself Mr. Wayne. Now if you don't mind, I have a very busy day at work tomorrow so just let yourself out however the Hell you got in."

With that Clark pushed himself away from the wall and sidestepped Bruce, wishing with all his heart he owned some strong alcohol and that he could actually get drunk off of it at the moment. He only got a few steps past the Dark Knight of Gotham before he was seized by his wrist and then bodily hoisted clear off the ground. Clark let out an undignified yelp of surprised as he was suddenly airborne without the use of his powers and then his back was hitting the soft mattress of his bed with a light bounce. When his momentary disorientation clear, Clark gasped as he found himself laying on his back in his bed with Bruce looming over him like a dark reaper from the underworld.

Clark stared up at Bruce with wide eyes, finding the other man's expression unreadable behind the cowl.

It took everything in Clark to keep his heat-vision from flaring up.

It was Bruce who finally spoke.

" You've only known pain at my hands, the kind of pain I bet you never felt in all your life. I don't want that to be all you know from me, not when I have the chance to try and repair the damage I caused you." He said quietly.

" B-Bruce what are you-" He began to say, his voice barely above a whisper when he saw Bruce reaching for him.

Again he flinched and but kept his eyes open as the black gloved hand went past his face and into his hair. Clark froze as he felt those same fingers that had once punched and choked him in a knock-down drag-out brawl now carded into his dark curls in a gentle caress. Clark let out a shaky breath at the feeling of Bruce's fingertips in his hair and against his scalp, the sensation like tiny lightening bolts passing from his head all the way down to his toes. A small, breathy moan escaped him before he could stop himself.

It had been months, _months_ , since he'd had any kind of intimate contact with anyone. Now he felt like his every nerve ending was slowly coming alive at the simple contact.

Bruce for his part kept his hand in Clark's hair as gentle as possible, feeling a small surge of triumph when Clark subconsciously leaned into his hand. Telegraphing his movement, Bruce reached out with his other hand towards Clark. Clark swallowed as he watched Bruce's other gloved hand reach out towards his face this time and felt a small jolt as Bruce's gloved fingertips caressed the curve of his cheekbone. It was the very same cheek that a year and some months ago, Bruce had cut into with the Kryptonite spear. It made several powerful emotions surge up inside Clark as he felt Bruce's fingertips in his face and saw the deep regret in the older man's dark eyes. The charged silence was broken when Bruce drew his hand away from Clark's cheek and finally spoke.

" We won't go any further unless you want to. Do you want to Clark?" He asked.

Clark swallowed, feeling something hot unfurl in the pit of his stomach, a feeling he had not had in a long time. Taking in a deep breath, Clark spoke a single word.

" Yes."

Clark had enough time to let out a gasp before the sound was swallowed up by a pair of hot, insistent lips gently but firmly sealing themselves over his own in a deep, searing kiss. The rest of the world disappeared in that moment as Clark had his first kiss since the finally goodbye he shared with Lois. Bruce's mouth was almost molten, his stubble scratching against Clark's own clean shaven chin tickled. Clark let his eyes flutter shut and lost himself in the kiss, feeling Bruce above him and knowing the power that coiled just beneath the surface. It rapidly filled his mind that he was kissing Batman, _Batman_. The sheer intoxication of kissing Clark crashed over Bruce like a tidal wave. He had often dreamed and wondered what these same lips would feel like, but it all paled pathetically in light of the real thing. Clark was just so good, so pure in everything from the way he felt to the way he tasted.

Perfect.

Bruce wanted more, he wanted all of it.

They broke apart with a gasp several long moments later, both of them breathing hard. Clark looked slightly dazed, and Bruce knew his face was flushed beneath his cowl. With a herculean effort not to just dive back in for another mind-blowing kiss, Bruce drew back and sat up, looking down at Clark with hooded eyes. At Clark's silent look of askance, Bruce held out both of his gloved hands with his palms held up and spoke.

" It's time you dismantled the nightmare piece by piece and understood that you are safe with me, that you can trust me." He said.

Swallowing, Clark steadied his own nerve and slowly sat up so that he was sitting across from Bruce. With a final nod of reassurance from Bruce, Clark reached out for Bruce's left hand and pulled off the custom made combat glove, revealing the strong, calloused hand underneath. With that one glove gone, the illusion of the specter that haunted the Gotham streets was suddenly human, a mortal man of skin and bone. As he pulled off the other glove, Clark felt something that had been wound tight in terror slowly start to ease. Once the gloves were tossed onto the nightstand, Clark made quick work of the spike gauntlets that covered Bruce's arms, setting them beside the gloves before moving forward.

Clark felt his face heat up a little when he reached for Bruce's utility belt, but Bruce simply stared at his with warm eyes and waited patiently for Clark to undue the bat emblem clasp and then set the belt aside. It warmed something in Bruce to see Clark, despite how upset he had been earlier, still showing his gear the utmost care and respect instead of simply tearing everything off and tossing them aside. Bruce halted Clark for a moment and took off his own boots, setting them on the floor by the foot of the bed before letting Clark continue in undressing him. At Clark's look of askance, Bruce guided him in finding the hidden clasps that held his long, billowing cape to his shoulders. This too was neatly folded and placed on the chair Clark kept by his bedroom window.

As he stepped back to Bruce, Clark took a moment to just gaze at the other man as he was. Wearing only his suit and cowl, the fearsomeness of Batman's appearance had greatly diminished. Clark didn't doubt for one second that Bruce still wasn't dangerous as hell, but now instead of the shadowy figure who struck terror into the hearts of criminal and civilian alike, Bruce looked more like some WWE wrestler who'd lost his boots at some point. The very thought had Clark snickering despite how nervous he still felt.

" What's so funny?" Bruce grumbled, secretly thrilled to hear and see Clark laugh.

" You look like half-assed cosplay right now." Clark blurted out before he could stop himself.

There was a beat of silence and then Bruce let out a small snort and rolled his eyes, the ghost of a smile on his face beneath the cowl. Clark felt himself relax even further before he and Bruce both grew serious yet again. Feeling somewhat emboldened, Clark leaned in and pressed his lips to Bruce's in a tame kiss, one which Bruce responded to in kind. As they kissed, Bruce grasped Clark's wrists and then guided them around him till they were at his back. It was there that Clark felt the single, long seam at the middle of Bruce's back and realized it was the zipper on the suit. Feeling his heart pounding in his ears, Clark broke away from the kiss and looked into Bruce's dark eyes. Bruce met those clear blue eyes that had haunted his mind and heart for well over a year and gave a small, almost imperceptible nod before he reached up and surprised Clark by wrapping his arms around Clark's neck and tucking his face into the junction where the Kryptonian's neck and shoulder met. Clark let out a shaky breath and took a moment to just feel _Batman_ in his arms, scarcely believing that this was his reality right now and not the terrifying nightmare he found himself trapped in most nights.

Steadying his own nerves, Clark slowly trailed his hand up the zipper chain that vertically bisected Bruce's powerfully built back and found the slider situated at the back of the older man's neck. The sound of the zipper as Clark pulled the slider down was loud in both men's ears, seeming to almost echo through the entire apartment. Bruce did his best to hold back full body shudder as he felt the cool air on the sliver of skin on his back that was slowly exposed as Clark pulled the zipper down to the small of his back. He had his face literally buried in Clark's neck, the smell of faint o-zone and spring filling his nostrils and making more heat unfurl in his own belly. Once Clark had unzipped the bat suit, Bruce reluctantly drew away and reached up to pull the custom made armor off when Clark clasped his wrists and shook his head. Bruce lowered his hands into his lap and waited to see what Clark would do. There was a moment of charged silence where the pair simply gazed at each other and then Clark took a deep breath and then reached from the mask Bruce still had on. As Clark placed his hands on either side of Bruce's neck and gently pulled the mask off, Bruce's mind flashed back to his own horrid nightmare.

Bruce quickly snapped out of his own morbid trip down memory lane as Clark gently pulled the mask off of him, nothing like the man in Bruce's awful dream.

" Where did you go just now?" Clark asked as he held Batman's mask in his hands a barely there tremor in them.

With a small sigh, Bruce met Clark's questioning blue gaze and began to recount his nightmare where Clark had gone insane and taken over the world, how Batman had led a resistance movement that ended up getting decimated by Superman's men and these horrifying, otherworldly creatures, and then how he was suddenly chained and then a version of Superman that was cold and empty had come, cutting people in half with his heat-vision and then yanking the bat-mask off him roughly.

" Lois had died somehow and you blamed me for it. That she was your world and I took her from you. Then you reached for my chest and dug your fingers in. I screamed and then I wake up." Bruce finished quietly.

He watched sadly as Clark looked away and bowed his head, looking quietly devastated. Swallowing against a painful lump in his own throat, Bruce reached out and took Clark's face into his hands, the younger man looking up at him with surprised blue eyes as Bruce spoke.

" That's not you, I know that now, you proved it to me. Now let me do the same for you." He said quietly.

Clark took in a deep, steadying breath and then nodded, looking down at the mask he still held in his hands before he leaned over and placed it in the already crowded night stand. When he was facing Bruce again Clark closed the distance between them, his hands finally reaching for Bruce's suit. He pulled the open garment further apart at the back and then started peeling it away from Bruce's shoulders and then down his arms until the suit was clear and Bruce's well-built upper body was revealed to him.

" Oh wow." Clark whispered as he eyes took in the older man's impressive physique.

Bruce felt the corner of his mouth turn up and did his best not to preen under Clark's gaze. For someone like Clark, who was awe-inspiring in his own right to look at him with such admiration made something inside him want to be worthy of such. Bruce took it upon himself to pull the suit off the rest of the way, letting it fall to the floor and leaving him in nothing but the black boxer-briefs he had on underneath.

Clark regarded Bruce for a moment, having stripped away the physical persona of Batman with his own two hands. Yet even without the suit on, Bruce exuded only raw, coiling power beneath a veneer of calmness. It made another wave of heat pass through Clark as he reached for the hem of his own t-shirt and showily pulled it up and over his head.

" My God." Clark heard Bruce whisper, feeling his face heat up when he tossed his t-shirt over the side of the bed to join Bruce's suit and saw the way Bruce was hungrily taking him in.

There was a beat of charged silence, and then Clark finally noticed the litany of scars that adorned Bruce's body. Sliding across the bed, Clark reached out and pressed his fingertips to the large, faded scar on Bruce's collarbone that looked to be a burn of some kind.

" The Joker he uh... He likes to throw acid among other things. During one of our first fights he did this and it ate through the suit." Bruce explained, doing his best not to shudder in pleasure at Clark's touch.

His dark eyes went to the jagged, crescent shaped scar that now adorned Clark's chest, but he kept his hands to himself. He would do his own exploring if Clark allowed it, but right now was Clark's turn.

With a final touch to this first scar, Clark then reached for the next one of prominence, a pair of thin white lines along the left side of Bruce's ribcage.

" I was fighting with Penguin one night and despite being a full two head shorter than me, the guy can fight. He tripped me and sent me over the edge of the roof we were fighting on. I landed on this big stone Gargoyle and its wing got me." Bruce explained, feeling a quiet elation at shared the truth of how he got the marks on his body, rather than having to come up with a convincing lie that his scars were the product of his own clumsiness or misspent youth.

This went on for what felt like hours, with Clark exploring each scar he found on Bruce's front and Bruce explaining each corresponding past injury.

Then Bruce finally reached out and pressed his knuckles to the crescent shaped scar, making Clark inhale sharply.

" Does it still hurt Clark?" Bruce asked, running his fingertips along the raised bumps and edges. The scar itself was still pink in some areas, having yet to fade despite the time that had passed.

" S-Sometimes." Clark answered, Bruce's fingers feeling deliciously hot against the raised scar-tissue.

At Bruce's look of wanting further elaboration, Clark sighed.

" It's fine most of the time but after I have a nightmare about either you or what happened with Doomsday, it just starts to ache on both sides and WOAH!"

The rest of what Clark was going to say ended up being a surprised yelp as he was unceremoniously pushed backwards into his bed and Bruce loomed over him once more.

" No more of that." Bruce declared before he lowered his head and promptly ran his tongue over the crescent shaped scar.

" AH! B-Bruce!" Clark shouted as his body arched up into the older man and his hands blinding reached out, one coming to grip Bruce's shoulder while the other cupped the back of Bruce's head.

Clark groaned and writhed as Bruce began lightly biting and sucking at the scar, sending waves of fire through the Kryptonian's whole body. Clark's eyes fluttered shut as he lost himself in the maddeningly intoxicating sensation. After several long moment, Bruce pressed a final kiss to the crescent shaped scar and then started trailing molten hot kisses and bites up Clark's chest, then up the Kryptonian's neck and throat before finally sealing his mouth over Clark's panting lips in a searing kiss. Clark let out a muffled groan as Bruce's solid weight settled on top of him. The older man was like a furnace as Clark wrapped his arms around him and kissed him back. Bruce let out a low rumble of pleasure as he felt Clark's hands splayed across his back, those same hands that could crush him working their way down the length of his spine.

Bruce buried one of his hands into Clark's soft dark curls while his other hand stroked down Clark's neck, then over his collarbone and heaving chest. He made Clark moan obscenely against his mouth as he wracked his nails over Clark's quivering, well-muscled stomach before coming to stop at the waistband of the sleep pants he still hand on. He wrenched his mouth away from Clark's and looked down at the slightly dazed looking Kryptonian, the both of them breathing hard as Bruce spoke.

" Can I touch you here?" He whispered.

Clark let a small, shaky smile spread across his lips before he nodded his head. Looking at Clark warmly through hooded eyes, Bruce slowly tucked his hand under the waistband and finally touched Clark intimately. Clark let out a soft cry before he buried his face into the crook of Bruce's neck and groan at the feeling of Bruce's hand on him. Bruce mouthed at Clark's jaw as he continued to drive the younger man wild with his deliberately slow movement. Then, he _squeezed_ , wrenching a full scream out of Clark before smashing their mouths together.

Things quickly devolved after that, Clark's sleep pants and Bruce's underwear both falling to the floor forgotten.

a few moments later, Clark's ragged wail echoed through the entire apartment as Bruce held his shaking thighs apart and surged forward, joining their bodies in the most intimate of ways. White light danced across Clark's vision as he gasped and writhed, feeling his every sense nearly overwhelmed with pleasure after so much isolation. Bruce lowered himself back down onto Clark and let out a shaky groan of his own as he pressed his forehead to the young man.

" Are you okay Clark, am I hurting you?" Bruce gritted out, using all of his will not to start moving without giving Clark time to adjust.

Clark opened his eyes and looked up at Bruce, breathing hard as he slowly shook his head, his clear blue eyes over-bright as he spoke.

" N-No, you're not hurting me... you're not hurting me Bruce." Clark whispered.

" Good, that's good." Bruce whispered before he took a steadying breath and continued.

" Is it... Is it okay if I move now?" He asked softly.

Clark felt a small jolt go through him at Bruce's words, for here was the man, the same man who had made him bleed and nearly finished him, the same man who had haunted his dreams and robbed him of peace was now connected to him in the most intimate way and asking his permission to go further. Taking in a deep breath, Clark reached up and held the sides of Bruce's neck as he nodded and spoke.

" It's okay Bruce, I am okay. Y-You can move... God you feel so good already." Clark whispered.

Bruce had to shut his eyes at the powerful emotions Clark's whispered words stirred up in him. Letting out a long breath, Bruce spoke.

" Okay, okay. And you feel better than anything I could possibly imagine." He whispered before he pressed his lips to Clark's and a deep kiss and then pulled his hips back before slowly surging forward.

" Mmm." Clark groaned into Bruce's mouth as the older man finally started to move. Clark let his hands wander over Bruce's powerful back, along the sides of his ribs, and into his hair as he started moving his own hips to meet each of Bruce's thrusts.

The darkened bedroom was filled with the groans and cries from both men in their lovemaking. When they broke apart, Bruce went right to attacking Clark's neck and throat with his teeth. Clark mouthed at any part of Bruce he could reach, pressing kisses to his graying temple and his forehead.

With a growl that seemed inhuman, Bruce sat up and pulled Clark up with him as if he weighed nothing.

" Hold on to me, I've got you." Bruce said as he wrapped his arms around Clark and kept moving, his hands reaching for the exit-wound scar of Clark's back while his lips sought out the crescent shade scar on the Kryptonian's chest.. Clark let out an unintelligible noise as he wrapped his arms around Bruce started moving with him, sinking deeper onto the older man and gasping for breath against the deluge of mind-blowing pleasure that washed over him as Bruce reached the special spot inside.

They moved together towards white entropy, the noises coming from the both of them growing louder and more ragged with each passing moment until finally, Clark wrenched himself away from Bruce's searing kiss as his entire body went rigid and arched magnificently.

" BRUCE!" He screamed as release washed over him.

Clark going rigid was what pushed Bruce over the edge as with one, two final thrusts he felt release wash over him.

" Clark." Bruce whispered as he too went rigid.

They stayed lie that for what seemed an eternity, and then like a house of cards, Clark toppled backwards, taking Bruce with him. They collapsed onto the bed in a sweaty heap of tangled limbs and sheets.

With what strength he had, Bruce groaned and pushed himself up so that he could look at his lover. Clark stared up at Bruce with his pupils blown wide, a dazed look on his face. They just stared at each other, breathing hard before Clark finally spoke.

" Holy shit." He whispered.

Bruce blinked and then he let out a full laugh.

" Accurate." He chuckled before he leaned down and thoroughly plundered Clark mouth.

 _About half an hour later..._

The bed had new, crisp sheets on it as Bruce and Clark were laying side by side on their backs, freshly showered and with a thoughtful silence between them. Clark turned his head to the side to eye his bedfellow's profile. Gone was any semblance of the grim vigilante that had haunted Clark's dreams, instead there was just a man, the real man behind both the terrifying Dark Knight and the playboy billionaire. He had laugh lines at the corners of his eyes and silver at his temples, but still so very devastatingly handsome. When he had first met Bruce at Lex's event, Clark had seen only a pretentious jerk who was jaded and blasé. Now he knew better, now he had seen that there was depth to the man that he had barely scratched the surface of.

" Like what you see?" Bruce asked without taking his eyes off the ceiling, a small smile turning up the corners of his mouth.

" Very much." Clark answered honestly.

With a sigh, Bruce turned onto his side and Clark followed suit, the pair facing each other in the calm silence. It was Clark who spoke first.

" I'm not scared of you right now Bruce, but what about later on, when you aren't here to show me otherwise?" He asked quietly, knowing that while tonights events had been unexpected and amazing, sex was not some magical fix-all.

Bruce sighed and nodded before he reached out and ran his hand gently up Clark's arm, making the younger man shiver lightly before Bruce's hand came to rest over the side of Clark's neck. Rubbing his thumb against the elegant edge of Clark's jaw, Bruce spoke.

" You're the strongest person on the planet Clark, and I don't mean that because you're Superman, I mean it because even after all the crap the world piled onto you, and the crap _I_ piled onto you, you still kept trying, you even ended up giving your life to save everyone. You were strong enough to claw your way out of your own grave and then reclaim both parts of your life. And tonight, you were strong enough to give me a chance to show you that you're save with me, that you can trust me not to hurt you." It was here that Bruce paused and saw that Clark's eyes were suspiciously over bright. Reaching up to cup Clark's cheek, Bruce continued.

" I can tell you from experience that there's no easy, one-step way to get past trauma. I _traumatized you_ , and for that I will be sorry for the rest of my life. Up until this point, you've had more negative memories of me as Batman than you had good. Tonight you faced me while I was Batman and stripped him away piece by piece. Then you allowed me to touch you, be close to you. I can't tell you what will happen down the road, whether what we did tonight helped you in anyway. What I hope you do, if you end up having a another nightmare about what I did to you as Batman or just feel scared about anything in general, is that you remember tonight and that you understand that the man behind the mask doesn't want to hurt you ever again."

There was a beat of silence and then Clark spoke.

" Y-Yeah, I can do that Bruce." He said softly, tremulously.

Then Clark let out a shaky breath and closed his eyes, a single tear escaping and trailing down the side of his nose. Bruce wordlessly wiped it away with his thumb and then pulled Clark to him. Clark let out a watery laugh but went willingly, wrapping his arms around Bruce and tucking his face against the older man's neck. Bruce buried one hand in Clark's hair and used his other to gently stroke up and down Clark's back. The Kryptonian drifted off to sleep within a matter of moments, but sleep did not come so easily for Bruce Wayne. The billionaire/vigilante lay there in the dark, warm, but feeling an ice-cold rock of guilt and shame in the pit of his stomach as he drew back a little to gaze at Clark's sleeping face.

He had hurt this man so much, he had nearly ended him in his rage and hate, his mistaken belief that Clark was the enemy.

Then Clark had sacrificed himself and restored Bruce's hope that the world could be better. As he leaned in and pressed a kiss to a sleeping Clark's forehead, Bruce renewed his vow to not fail Clark as he had done before.

As he lay his head down and closed his eyes, Bruce fervently hoped that as they moved forward, they would get past Clark fear and his own guilt.

When morning came a few hours later, Bruce was abruptly woken up by Clark having a major freakout about being late to work and how Perry White was going to eat him alive. Bruce had propped himself up onto his elbows and smiled indulgently as he watched Clark hop around from one foot to the other getting his pants on as fast as he could. When Clark had come close to the bed, Bruce lashed out and grabbed him by the wrist, yanking Clark into his hold and kissing him soundly before declaring that Clark wasn't going to work today as far as Bruce was concerned. Bruce explained that after they had a nice breakfast together, Bruce would call Perry at the Daily Planet and explain that he had invited Clark to spend the next few days with him on a little excursion of his, the billionaire from Gotham wanting to know more about the Reporter from Metropolis who had miraculously come back from the dead and vice versa.

After said breakfast, which Clark was happy to cook up for them, Alfred Pennyworth arrived at the apartment with his gentlemanly flare and a set of appropriate clothing for Bruce, along with a bag to hide the Batman uniform in. Once that was taken care of, Bruce asked Clark to pack a bag with some heavy winter clothes before holding true to his word and whisking Clark away to said excursion, which happened to be a flight up to Alaska of all places to ask the locals of a small, obscure fishing village about a stranger who comes from the sea on the King Tide with fish during the winter when people were hungry. Said tide had happened last night.

A man named Arthur Curry, who Bruce heard could to talk to fish.

 **The End.**


End file.
